


fēlīcitās multōs habet amīcōs

by Mossgreen



Series: 2770 ab urbe condita [64]
Category: 2770 ab urbe condita - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ass to Mouth, Bondage, Dirty Talk, Enemas, M/M, Master/Slave, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Torture, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Public Nudity, Restraints, Slavery, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:20:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22947673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mossgreen/pseuds/Mossgreen
Summary: It's just another Wednesday for Ven and his master - with everything that implies. It's just not going to be as easy as usual for Ven.
Series: 2770 ab urbe condita [64]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1059413
Comments: 63
Kudos: 93
Collections: 2770 ab urbe condita - the collected fiction





	1. salutātiō

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry I haven't posted anything in ages! I'm posting this today with the intention of writing the whole day out and giving you all a good long story in the end, to make up for my absence. I hope you're all well and will remain so!

They were in the atrium, with Master relaxing in his chair and Ven on a cushion at his feet. The house was quiet around them - not silent; Ven could hear someone vacuuming one of the cubicula. Within the atrium itself, he could hear the clock ticking on the wall. The complūvium in the roof was open and a gentle breeze stirred the fronds of the banana plant over his head (the atrium was a large space and high enough for such a big plant, though it was by no means the only plant in the space). 

Junio approached with the breakfast tray, placing it carefully on the table on Master’s other side before pouring him a cup of coffee, then bowed and withdrew back to his station by the wall. Master passed Ven a plate - today’s breakfast was a fresh bread roll and olive oil, and a glass of milk - and Ven took it, grateful to be allowed to feed himself this morning. 

Master typed on his tabula between mouthfuls, checking who was attending today’s salutātiō and any special requests his clients had.

Of course, breakfast could not last forever and soon Ven’s plate was empty, as was the glass of milk which had accompanied his meal. He set his plate and cup back on the tray and settled to wait for his master to finish his own meal.

Master glanced up from his tabula. "Junio, fetch me the two items you will see on my bed."

"Yes, Master."

"Ven, stand up, bend over the arm of the lectus there and pull your tunic up."

Ven went hot, and had to swallow before he could also manage to say, "Yes, Master."

He took the position, grateful that he couldn’t see his fellow slave. The position meant that Junio would have a view of his bare bum, both on coming back from Master’s room and once he was back at his station - there was a potted plant which might obscure the view a bit once Junio was back in position, but it was only a feathery sort of plant and wouldn’t hide very much at all. 

It wasn’t as though Junio hadn’t seen him naked before - the slaves’ showers and toilet block had no dividers - but this was very different. It couldn’t be helped, they were both slaves.

Junio’s footsteps were almost silent on the tiled floor; even Master was frequently barefoot in the house in summer, after all and the slaves only wore sandals when going out, to market or (in Ven’s case) when accompanying Master somewhere.

There was a quiet clatter as Master placed his empty coffee cup on the tray and then Ven felt a slight whisper of fabric as the hem of Master’s tunic brushed against his bare skin. Master slapped his bare bottom appreciatively. 

"Such a lovely bum. I really ought to make you show it more often."

Ven wriggled, burying his burning face in the cushions of the sofa and then braced himself as Master pressed a finger, then two, into him. He had been told not to replace last night’s plug when he had washed and dressed earlier.

The fingers were replaced with a generously lubed solid plug that Ven thought might be silicone, though he couldn’t really tell. His fingers grasped the cushion and he tightened all over as the plug revealed itself to be a vibrator.

"That will keep you interested today, I think," Master said, stepping back and resuming his seat.

Ven swallowed a whine; Master didn’t like sounds like that, usually. He wasn’t usually _un_ interested in things, especially on Wednesdays, and could only hope that he wouldn’t be teased too badly during this afternoon’s trip out to Osteria Nova.

"Junio, you can remove the tray, and let Willow know that I will be inspecting the slave quarters after today’s salutātiō."

"Yes, Master." 

Master had every right to go wherever he wanted in his own house. That he didn’t go through the swing-door into the slave quarters every day didn’t mean that he didn’t have the right to, even if it meant interrupting the slaves during mealtime or during their evening, they were his property, they only enjoyed downtime because he allowed them to. In smaller households, slaves could be on duty from before the master woke until after he went to bed, and that was that. SIPAS had managed to bring in a law that all slaves should have their own bed to sleep in, but they couldn’t regulate how much sleep a slave was permitted to get - too much interference in how a citizen ran his household would bring out protesters in (Ven suspected) rather large numbers, right across the Empire.

Ven was aware that some masters had some sort of set routine when it came to inspecting the slave quarters - there would maybe be an announcement or it would happen on the same day every week, or every month. Master Drusus was, in many ways, like most masters. And then again, he was also different in many ways. Giving the slaves a mere hour or so to get the slave quarters presentable would mean that he was more likely to see them as they really were, rather than scrubbed and polished and with a veneer of falseness over the top. The warning did at least give his slaves enough time to tidy the worst of the mess (if anything was a mess, which was unlikely to happen with Willow in charge) and hide anything contraband, which the master would not appreciate his slaves having. 

Not that Ven thought any of his fellow slaves would willingly have any such thing; they all knew that there were far worse masters than Drusus Varius Metellus, and wouldn’t risk angering him by bringing forbidden things into his house. It wasn’t as though he forbade very much, either - seditious literature distributed by organisations such as Aequālitās being chief among those banned things.

Ven wriggled again as the vibrator kicked up a notch in intensity. Facing today with a vibrator in was going to be little short of torture.

Another few minutes went by before he was permitted to straighten up and sort his clothing out as the vibrations settled back down to their lower setting. He followed his master into the tablīnum where he picked up his own tabula as Master settled into his chair.

Ven would be today’s gatekeeper; usually it was a duty shared between himself and Willow, but Willow was (naturally) going to be busy. It wasn’t an onerous duty, anyway - ensure that payments were made to each client and make appointments for later in the week for those needing to speak to Master for more than five minutes.

He swallowed as he noticed an innocuous-looking remote lying on Master’s desk next to his tabula. It might look innocent but it controlled the toy currently inside him. He didn’t have time to think about it because the first clientēs were beginning to arrive, looking smart but uncomfortable in their togas. These were the ones who had actual links to Master - some of them were former slaves, some belonged to families who had been Master’s family’s clients for years. Perhaps even centuries - it was possible, after all. Several of them were Varii, although with different cognomina, denoting the fact that, somewhere in the past, an ancestor had been a slave and then a freedman to Master Drusus' family.

The citizens sorted themselves into ranks, one or two pushing forwards to try to get the attention of the uppity slave who was between them and the man they really wanted to see. Ven requested a name and brief explanation as to why they wanted to see Master Drusus, before crossing to the tablīnum to ask whether he should admit them, make an appointment or deny them outright. 

The first was allowed in and Ven spent the next minutes taking names, using his tabula to release payments of various amounts of money, and trying not to betray his difficulty in concentration as his master played with the intensity of the vibrations from the toy inside him.

He nearly had to cling to the doorframe as the intensity peaked while announcing Titus Antonius Merenda. Thankfully, he only earned himself a raised eyebrow and an admonition to be careful. He managed to reply with suitably lowered eyes and voice, "Yes, Domine. Apologies, Domine."

Once those waiting in the atrium were dealt with, Ven began to usher them out. Two men and a woman remained behind, having been granted an audience and were waiting their turn to see Master Drusus.

There were the hopefuls waiting outside the house to be dealt with now, either by merely being given some meagre cash or by taking names and seeing if Master would allow them to come in to petition him directly. He did not often take on new clients of his own, but would occasionally offer help to find a regular patron or would act as patron on an ad hoc basis.

He could not help thinking - a strong vibration interrupted his thoughts, nearly dropping him to his knees in the entrance to the vestibule and leaving him weak-kneed and panting, sure that he must be sporting a very obvious erection by now. The moment passed and the vibrations died away to near stillness.

It was a moment before he could recover his equilibrium and his chain of thought. One day, he would be among the citizens calling to request a moment of his master’s time, and it would be another slave who would grant or deny him that access. 

He was not altogether sure how he felt about that.

It wasn’t likely to happen for a while yet, though, so no use thinking about it.

"I need to see your master now, slave," demanded one individual, planting himself in front of Ven and planting his hands on his hips.

Ven called on his patience, trying his best to emulate his master’s coolness. "My master is busy, sir. If I may take your name, I will enquire whether he will be able to see you today, though it may not be until next week."

"Do you know who I am?"

"I am afraid I don’t, sir, which is why I am asking for your name, to be able to tell my master you wish to see him."

Finally, begrudgingly, the man came up with a name. "Gaius Cornelius Carrinas."

"And may I ask why you want to see him, sir?" He waited for a beat. "If I can’t give him a reason, I can guarantee his answer will be no, I am afraid, sir."

Butter the bastard up - applying platitudes wouldn’t hurt, after all. The man would have to cave to his very reasonable requests or be denied entry at all, and they both knew it. Despite being a slave, Ven had all the power here - if he didn’t like the man for whatever reason, he could always recommend to his master that the man be denied entry - if he even took the request to his master and didn’t simply bring back a denial having stood in the vestibule for a minute or two. Ven was sure some slaves operated like that, but he would go and speak to his master unless the request patently had no merit whatsoever.

"I am looking for sponsorship to a post at the Gymnasium Mercātūrae Rōmae," he managed, slightly sulkily.

"I will ask, sir, but it might not be until next week, and he will want to see your education certificates and other relevant documents. Please wait here." Ven disappeared back into the house, closing the door almost in the man’s face, and shuddering with sudden arousal as the vibrator made itself known again.

He could not possibly manage to last the day if his master was going to keep on doing that.

He returned a few minutes later, holding a business card with a date and time written on the back of it.

"I’m sorry, sir, he can’t fit you in today, but he will see you here on Monday. Please email him your curriculum vitae and let him know exactly what it is you need from him."

"Thank you," the citizen said, having apparently discovered his manners during his short wait. He did not look very happy but accepted his fate and turned in the direction of the coffee shop on the corner.

There were no other requests for an audience with his master and Ven could breathe a sigh of relief, heading back into the house, stepping aside for the last of the clients who was on her way out.

Master was rubbing the back of his neck as Ven paused in the doorway of the tablīnum. He crossed the room, stepping behind his master’s chair and giving him as much of a neck rub as he could, considering the back of the chair was in his way.

"Bad morning, Master?" he asked quietly and had to grip the back of the chair as the vibrator intensified again. He hadn’t even seen his master reach for the remote.

"Not really. Having trouble?" Master enquired. "You may jerk off, if you are too aroused. Stand there, and take your tunic off."

Ven bit his lip and went to stand where directed, pulling his tunic off as he did so. He was sure that his face was the same colour as his tunic, and hoped that nobody was going to walk past and see him. His prick was erect, testament to the teasing his master had been inflicting on him for the past hour or so.

"Just remember, that vibrator is staying in until this evening," his master told him.

Ven forced his hands to remain by his sides, though he had to clench his fists. He did not think that he could bear the over-stimulation of the vibrator if he came now, but was just as certain that he was going to find it a desperate struggle to keep his mind on anything if he was forced to endure the same teasing without coming.

"Three… two... one. Get dressed and come with me," Master said, taking the decision out of Ven’s hands.

Ven pulled his tunic back on, slipping into his usual place behind his master as they headed to the garden and the corridor to the slave quarters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**  
>  fēlīcitās multōs habet amīcōs - (Title) Prosperity has many friends  
> atrium - in a Roman house, an open room off which other rooms led, broadly equivalent to a living room in a modern house, while also fulfilling the role of the entrance hall  
> cubicula - plural of cubiculum; bedroom  
> complūvium - an opening in the ceiling/roof of the atrium, through which rainwater enters the implūvium, a shallow pool directly beneath it  
> tabula - tablet computer  
> lectus - A sofa/couch/settee, usually used for reclining on  
> salutātiō - a formal morning call clients paid to their patron.  
> SIPAS - Societās Imperātōrium Prohibēre Atrōcitae Servīs which translates back to English as the Imperial Society (or Alliance) to Prevent/Prohibit/Hinder Cruelty/Brutality to Slaves.  
> Aequālitās - literally ‘Equality’, a not-quite illegal group calling for abolition of slavery. They distribute photocopied typewritten leaflets decrying the treatment of slaves, and are closely watched by Imperial Intelligence. Very popular among university students wanting to be ‘edgy’ in their activism. (It’s very similar in many ways to Greenpeace and PETA in our own world.)  
> tablīnum - the master’s study or home office, set between the atrium and garden in a traditionally laid-out Roman house  
> cliēntēs - plural of cliēns, a client (see [this wiki page](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Patronage_in_ancient_Rome) for a better explanation than I could give!)  
> cognomina - the plural of ‘cognomen’, the third of the three names that traditionally marked a Roman citizen. ‘Metellus’ is DVM’s cognomen. (There’s a good piece on names in 2770auc by Imperial Dragon, [here](https://2770auc.dreamwidth.org/952.html))  
> Gymnasium Mercātūrae Rōmae - the Commerce School of Rome, a large trade school (a step down from the Universitās)


	2. recēnsiō

The slave quarters were stone-flagged (and probably had been ever since the house was built) and much plainer than the main part of the house. There were still one or two potted plants around, which helped make the place look a bit more welcoming.

The cage in the corner opposite the entry door stood open, the cot's plastic-covered mattress bare. Ven couldn't remember the last time it had been used prior to his master's commanded purchase of the Emperor's cousin Julianus who was… well, that whole situation was better not thought about.

Ven himself hadn't had much to do with the kid, but had listened to everything Willow had had to say, and heard all the reports that Willow had brought their master. It had not been easy for any of them, of course, probably demonstrating just how hard a transition it had been for the kid. Which was understandable - going from being a favoured member of the foremost family in the Empire to an anonymous slave in someone's household… He had read the numerous interviews and articles in _Ave! serve_ which gave a glimpse into how hard it was for even ordinary ex-citizens to adjust. 

Not something he should be thinking of now, of course, he thought, following his master into the white-tiled latrine block. It was clean, of course - it was cleaned more frequently than the latrine block in the main part of the house due to how many people used it on a daily basis. It still looked dingy and past its best - who knew how old the tiling was, after all, but that hardly mattered for an area only used by slaves.

Ven had no clue what his master expected to see apart from yellowing grout, cracked tiling and ancient greying towels, but it smelt of cleaning chemicals and there weren't dust bunnies gathering in the corners, and the towels were clean, even if they were old. 

The next stop was the shower block next door, which was in a similar state, though the brightness in here was relieved by the end wall near the door, which was painted in dark blue - the same colour as the feature wall in the frigidārium, in fact.

Again, there was not much to see here and Master did not look around for long before heading back into the service corridor. He went into the utility room - if he did not, word would be very quick to get out that it would be a safe place to hide things people didn't want him to know about, after all, and the same went for the store room.

There were quiet voices - there was obviously someone doing laundry (when wasn't there someone doing laundry, with so many slaves in the house?) but nothing that sounded too alarming, and Master came back out as one of the washing machines began spinning up for the final part of its cycle.

Next was the break room, with its old, mismatched sagging furniture. It was paved in the same flagstone as the rest of the service quarters, but the seating area was relieved by the addition of a round seagrass rug. There was nobody in here at the moment; while it was referred to as the 'break room', it was understood that nobody was to be in here before their duties were over for the day. After all, slaves were not entitled to regular breaks as free people were, so it was mainly used in the evening between cēna and bedtime.

Master crossed to the shelves under the window and went through a stack of back issues of _Ave! serve_ , probably to see that nobody had slipped anything between magazines, trying to hide something they shouldn't have in their possession.

Master straightened up without finding anything. Ven didn't see where his master's hand went but the vibrator inside him suddenly jumped from almost nothing to full power. He staggered against the wall, unable to keep from dropping a hand to his erection, wishing he could relieve his arousal.

And of course Master passed him precisely at that moment. He grasped Ven's wrist, lifting his hand away from his crotch before palming Ven's prick himself through his tunic. "This is mine, boy, you don't get to touch it at all today. Do you understand me?"

Master spoke quietly but insistently. Ven tried to gather his scattered wits but the vibrator was still on its highest setting, making it hard to concentrate. He closed his eyes, trying to find the strength to speak. The hand cupping his prick squeezed, drawing a whine from Ven even as Master repeated, "I asked, do you understand?"

"Y… Yes, Master. Oh, p… please…"

The hand vanished at the same time the vibrator dialed back to nearly nothing, leaving Ven feeling wrung out and limp, sagging against the wall and gasping for breath.

Today was going to be a long, _long_ day!

He could only hope that Briseis did not notice anything amiss this afternoon, but that was surely just wishful thinking - she was a bright girl who noticed almost everything, in Ven's experience.

Willow gave him a sympathetic look as he followed their master into the slaves' dormitory. It was a moment before Ven could recover enough strength to follow them - at least Willow was the only slave present to witness Ven's current discomfort, though how long that would last was anyone's guess.

Like the rest of the slave quarters on this level, the dormitory was stone-flagged, although there were carpet runners down the middle of the room for some relief. The wall opposite the door was painted in a muted green, contrasting with the beige of the rest of the room. There was another potted plant under the window at the far end of the room.

Each metal cot was made up, the grey blankets neatly tucked in. Every cot, apart from one, had a colourful throw as well as the rough woollen blankets and cotton sheets. There was a little individuality showing here; some beds had the throw neatly folded at the foot, and some had it draped over the top, hiding the blanket. The one cot without a blanket was where Ven slept when he was not required to sleep in his master's room, and his blanket was on the cot in there.

Privately Ven thought it interesting that Master did not require the slaves to meet military standards and have every bed-space presented identically - he knew that his master had spent time in the Legions, after all. He was very grateful that they didn't have to, though. To keep their own part of the house up to military standards as well as keeping the rest of the house looking clean and tidy would have been almost impossible, especially when the master only inspected once a month or so, and on short notice.

Master walked down the room, occasionally pulling out the drawer of one of the bedside tables to see its contents - a comb, perhaps, or someone's sewing kit. Little, cheap things that everyone needed and that were easily replaced.

Ven was amused to note that someone had a stuffed toy on their cot, and of course, Icarus had one of his bonsai trees on the nightstand beside his bed.

Master was returning back up the room now, still opening drawers. He checked the one by Ven's cot, though what he expected to find in there, Ven couldn't say - he had a comb in there, some deodorant, a bottle of lube and a spare butt plug, nothing at all interesting.

Everything else came up just as devoid of anything suspicious and Master next went into the slaves' dining room. There was nothing of any interest in here - three tables and benches and the serving hatch and door to the kitchen.

Ven could see the kitchen staff through the glass door, all busy with whatever preparations they were making for the evening meal. Master pushed the door open and went in, bringing the activity within to an abrupt halt as the slaves all looked up. Someone was stirring something in a pot on the stove, and continued to stir although his eyes were fixed on Master.

Ven gripped the table beside him as the vibrator kicked up a notch and then two, keeping him on edge. Master seemed not to notice his discomfort and arousal, talking with Grumio about… something. Willow looked at him in concern.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes… I… He's... oh, _Apollo_! It's a… it's a vibrator… he's got the remote…"

Willow rubbed his arm in sympathy even as the vibrator went dead between one breath and the next, leaving Ven weak-kneed and breathing rapidly. Nobody in the kitchen seemed to have noticed.

They headed upstairs next - the service quarters were the only part of the house to have two storeys, although Master had mentioned in passing that the main part of the house had had a second floor at some point. There might have been a fire or something - Ven wasn't clear on the details - but it no longer did, although the private balneum had been put in at some point.

There were two more dormitories upstairs; one for any slaves brought by guests, and the other for the other members of the household staff. Master chose the guest dorm first. It was a bright room with plain runners on the bare wooden planks of the floor, the feature wall painted the same colour as the feature wall of the atrium, a hot spicy sort of pink that brought to mind some foreign place like the Southern Trading Alliance, or the Aztlan Alliance. The beds in here were all bare at the moment - any beds required for visiting slaves would be made up (or the bedding given to the slaves to make their own beds up) when needed. The bedside tables were all empty, and the provided lockers at one end of the room all stood open. It was as impersonal a room as any in the slave quarters - more, really, when you looked at the small things the slaves had done to make the rest of the place feel homey. This room just didn't feel lived in, at all, despite the potted plant at the far end of the room under the window.

Well, that was understandable; it wasn't lived in. It was a room for slaves to sleep in, short-term, while their master or mistress was visiting Master.

It hadn’t taken long for Master to look round the guest dormitory, and he turned his attention to the second dormitory used by the household slaves. This was decorated in a similar way to the dormitory downstairs, with patterned runners along the wooden floorboards, and a feature wall in a vibrant dark reddish brown. Again, the beds in here were made up, with coloured throws or blankets on each, and again Master went down the room, looking in the drawer of each bedside table.

The sickbay was likewise empty of any surprises, as was the linen store, the household office that Willow used and the workroom store. Master went into the workroom to have a word with Davus and came back out, apparently satisfied. 

Disaster struck in the household storeroom, the largest storeroom in the house and where various things were kept - spare tunics, spare bedding and towels and various other bits and pieces a large household required on an infrequent basis. Ven noticed the scrap of paper a fraction of a second before Master bent to retrieve it. It had slipped down behind one of the low shelving units and fallen to lie poking out, the cheap coloured paper a dead giveaway for what it was.

Ven was sure he heard Willow stop breathing at the same time he did - for a slave to be caught with such a thing was… 

"I want to see everyone in the atrium. Now." Master’s voice was frigid and sent shivers down Ven’s spine.

"Yes, Domine," Willow said, and turned and left without another word.

"Do you know how this might have got here?" Master said. He was holding the photocopied leaflet between finger and thumb as though it were something poisonous.

"N… No, Domine." Ven couldn’t believe anybody might be so stupid as to bring such a thing into this house.

"I want a baking tray, preferably an old one, and a lighter," Master said. "Come to the atrium when you have them."

"Yes, Domine," Ven replied, and headed down to the kitchen without a second’s hesitation, the vibrator completely forgotten in the face of this.

He passed Felix and Congrio on their way out of the kitchen and went in to find Grumio looking extremely irritated. 

"I hope you’re here to tell me to ignore it," Grumio said, and Ven shook his head. 

"I’m sorry, no. I need an old baking tray or something similar, and a lighter - and if you’re worried about cēna burning or something, surely you can turn it down, or off?"

"That’s not the point," Grumio grumbled.

"You know the master wouldn’t summon you if it wasn’t extremely important," Ven said, trying to mollify him. "I don’t think it’ll take too long, but he was very clear about wanting everyone."

Grumio sighed and turned the stove down before rummaging in a cupboard and producing an old baking sheet that had rust spots on it.

"Vesta knows what he wants this for," he grumbled, and found the lighter he used for the gas hob. 

They were not quite the last to enter the atrium where the other slaves were all lined up, looking extremely apprehensive. Master was sitting on his usual seat, a forbidding look on his face. His usual footstool was to one side and in its place was a stone-topped side table that normally stood by the formal seating area outside the tablīnum. Ven set the baking tray and lighter on the table and joined the nervous group of gathered slaves.

There was a pause, a silence so brittle that Ven almost didn’t dare breathe as Master extracted the handmade leaflet and held it up. It seemed as though everyone gasped at once, a single sound of horror.

"I see you know what this is," Master said into the silence. "I do not have to remind you of the penalties that are exacted on any slave found with this sort of seditious literature in their possession. Whoever brought it into this house would find that I could do very little to protect him if the Vigiles or the Urban Cohort, or, gods forbid, Imperial Security discovered him with this sort of thing."

There were one or two whimpers from the assembled slaves. 

"I need not remind you that the misguided group that produces such trash is under surveillance by Imperial Security, and thanks to the presence of one of you in particular, so is this house. It might be for his safety, but I do not doubt that if someone here were to be seen with this, or anything like it, they would have no hesitation in seizing that slave and I would be able to do very little, even as your master and paterfamilias."

He set the leaflet on the baking tray and lit the lighter, holding it to the edge of the paper.

"If the person who brought this in has any more hidden anywhere, he will leave them in the larārium tonight, and I will deal with them in the morning."

He waited until there was nothing left of the cheap paper but ash before setting the lighter down.

"You may return to your duties, all of you. Ven, deal with this."

There was no murmuring as the gathered slaves turned to head back to their chores. Most of them looked shaken and one or two were chalk-white. Ven crumbled the ashes into the implūvium and returned the baking tray to the kitchen.

He returned to the atrium with a glass of wine for Master, who looked as if he needed it. The side table had been returned to its usual place, and Master had his feet up on his footstool. Ven put the glass of wine down by Master's hand and settled down on his cushion, leaning his head against Master's thigh. He felt much as he had that other evening in the Ātrium Vestae, when the Emperor's slave Valentine had pulled a gun from his bag and scared everyone in a stupid demonstration.

Master patted Ven on the head. "Come here," he said and Ven looked up to see what he meant, before scrambling onto the sofa and carefully lying down with his head in his master's lap.

"It won't be long before prandium," he said, though the kitchen slaves were just as shaken as he was.

"You're a good boy, Ven," Master told him, carding his fingers through Ven's hair. Ven lay there, his earlier arousal all but forgotten, his racing heart subsiding in the quietness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> recēnsiō - (Chapter title) inspection  
> frigidārium - the cold room of a Roman bath-house, frequently with a pool  
> cēna - dinner; the main meal of the day, eaten in the evening.  
> larārium - household shrine  
> Ātrium Vestae - the Vestal House, where the Vestal Virgins live  
> prandium - lunch, a light meal eaten in the middle of the day


	3. invīsunt

Lunch was light: a bread roll with cheese, ham and olives, and coffee for Master and a glass of water for Ven, who would get his second and most substantial meal that evening. Most slaves only had two meals in the day, after all, and some only got one, which was perfectly legal so long as they got the right nutrients and calories.

It wasn't as though Ven was fed while the other slaves in the house weren't, which would make him feel even more at odds with them, so there was that, at least. Master did offer him some raisins, though, and some dried cranberries. 

"May I ask if this counts as part of my recommended intake of fruit and vegetables, Master?" he asked, looking up at his master's face and risking the light-hearted question. Master _did_ allow him to ask things like that, sometimes. And it was only sometimes.

He must have recovered from what had happened before lunch, if he could pose such a silly light-hearted question, he thought, and was not altogether surprised when Master tapped him on the nose. "Part, pet, yes. Something like half a portion, if so much. Don't ask silly questions."

"I'm sorry, Master."

When the vibrator inside him started up at a setting that wasn't the highest but was far higher than nothing at all, Ven jolted as if electrified before stiffening, even as Master held another raisin to his mouth. He looked deceptively innocent as Ven's eyes jerked up to his face, and he couldn't help the whine that escaped as the vibrator ratcheted up another notch or two as he opened his mouth to accept the small piece of fruit. It dialled back momentarily as he chewed and swallowed.

He felt hot and cold, aware of all the places where he was most sensitive, and it wasn't as though his master had actually _done_ anything to him, either. Not really.

He wasn't sure whether to be surprised or not when Master reached down to pull his tunic up and cup his bare bum. "All right, pet, call a cycleshaw for half an hour from here to the Pincian Gate."

"Um…" He shifted a little under his master's hand

Master raised an eyebrow. "Where's your tabula?"

"In the tablinum, Master, in my satchel."

Master kept petting and caressing him even as he snapped his fingers and ordered Moss to fetch the bag.

Once Moss had retrieved his satchel, Ven pulled his tabula out and opened the app for the cycleshaw company they used the most, trying not to squirm under his master's possessive fondling of his bare bum and the changing intensity of the vibrator. How long did the batteries even last in those things, anyway - especially when it kept going _that_ high!

"Stop rutting against the furniture, boy, I don't want it stained. Speaking of which, go and change." 

His master slapped his bum - not to hurt, merely as any free man might slap or grope a slave in passing, in appreciation of his (or her) body.

Ven pushed himself up and stood, feeling shaky, and bit his lip as his master tugged at his tunic.

"Let's have this off, then, and have a look at you."

In the atrium, in the middle of the day? It was not unheard of, and it wasn't as though Moss and Junio had never seen him naked before, but naked and aroused and having to cross what suddenly seemed a vast expanse of open room to get to his master's bedroom… Ven swallowed and hastily disrobed, flushing red.

"So pretty," Master said, and wrapped a hand around Ven's erect prick, running his thumb over the head of it, smearing precum. Ven could not help pushing into his hand, just a little, only to have all contact withdrawn. Master didn't, thankfully, go for Ven's nipples today; that would have meant moving from his comfortable position in order to reach.

"Run along, you don't have long before the cycleshaw arrives. And I'll have my dark blue pallium, I think." Master reached for a tissue as he spoke, to wipe his hands.

"Yes, Master."

Ven balled his tunic up and resolutely did not look in Junio's direction as he crossed to Master's room to find a clean tunic for himself, and his master's pallium - the dark blue would look stunning with the dark ochre of the tunic he was wearing right now, which was trimmed in a similar burgundy colour to Ven's own slave tunic which came to mid-thigh or thereabouts. Master's tunics fell to just below his knees when he was standing and that difference alone indicated which was the owner and which the slave.

He had barely finished draping his master's pallium around him, and fastened their shoes on, when he heard the notification from the app, telling him that the cycleshaw was waiting outside for them. Master handed him a canvas shopping bag to carry, of which the only visible contents were a rolled-up towel at the top.

The trip to the secure allocated parking was pretty quick, overall, though Ven couldn't keep still as Master continued to play with the vibrator's remote, slowly cranking up Ven's arousal as the intensity rose and fell in swooping waves that had almost no pattern Ven could predict.

"Give me that bag," Master said, and first removed the towel, setting it on the car's passenger seat before taking out a much smaller object, sealed in a ziploc bag, and held it up for Ven to see.

Ven was not at all sure how he felt about the plug his master was holding up. He had seen something similar in the form of a hollow cylinder, allowing access without the inconvenience of pushing through the ring of muscle. This one was solid, its initial appearance deceptive. 

It was, at first glance, a small one. The insertable portion was a very short smooth cone with a wide base. The neck was short but fat and the base was a mere flat strip, moulded to sit comfortably along his crack. The design suggested its purpose: merely to hold his entrance open while allowing everything inside to return to its normal dimensions. There would be nothing to squeeze against, no internal pressure, no feeling of fullness as with one of the more usual plugs. Just the ring of muscle at his entrance being held open, squeezing tight around the inch-and-a-half diameter of the neck.

It would be relatively comfortable to sit down with it in, and there would be no sign of a toy unless Ven bent over and lifted his tunic, but his anus would be kept open, forced to accommodate the wide neck of the toy for as long as Master wanted.

Hopefully, that would only be for the afternoon - but that meant that in all likelihood, he'd have the vibrator back in again. The realisation made him squirm.

"Right, hands on the cucullus," Master said and Ven bit his lip, moving to stand at the front of the car before resting his hands there, bending over a little to do so, hoping that nobody would pass them and that they were not within view of any security cameras.

If they were, some lucky bastard of a security guard was going to get his very own MasterClass show to jerk off to. Probably the most exciting thing to happen in this car-park; Ven didn’t think they had too much trouble with hooligans out here, not when Master had to use an electronic key to let them in.

Ven's tunic was pulled up and he tried not to shiver as he felt the cool air against his skin. The vibrator was turned off and then pulled out before being sealed into a second ziploc bag and dropped into the shopping bag. Ven let his head drop as he felt a cool slick finger trace his rim and push inside, spreading lube there. If there was one thing he could be eternally grateful to all the gods for, it was that his master was generous with lube.

The small plug (it really was - it resembled the sort of thing you'd find attached to a sink far more than any sort of sex toy, or at least the insertable part did) was a very flat sort of cone, forcing his hole to stretch to the toy's widest point almost immediately as Master pushed it in. Just because of its shape, Ven knew it was not the sort of thing Phallusy would sell for use on an inexperienced slave. The long slender base nestled along his crack and he couldn't help trying to squeeze around the part inside him, only there was nothing at all to squeeze around.

He straightened up, trying to adjust to feeling empty yet stretched wide and sealed up, to find Master wiping his hands on the towel before laying it over the passenger seat.

"In you get then, pet," Master said and passed him the shopping bag. "That can go by your feet, there's plenty of room." He looked critically at Ven's crotch as he got in and shut the door. "There is a packet of wipes in there. Pass them over and pull your tunic up. Let's see that prick."

Ven did so, catching his lip between his teeth as Master pulled a wet wipe from the packet and matter-of-factly wiped all traces of leaking fluid from his slave's cock, handling it much as he handled any inanimate object that he owned. Ven knew that his body was his master’s possession, but surely Master didn’t have to go and prove that fact to him quite so deliberately?

"You will find a bin to dispose of that when we arrive," he said, tugging Ven's tunic straight and giving him the used wipe.

"Yes, Master."

He was extremely aroused but now there was nothing inside him and his hole was held open, stretched, waiting for his master to do whatever he wanted. But he _wouldn't_ , he didn't want to do anything to Ven right now but keep him like this while they went to visit Elysia and Briseis and Ven had to act as though he wasn't three breaths from begging Master to pull the stopper out and ram his prick in instead.

"On second thoughts, you can keep your tunic up, there's no need to risk staining it."

Ven swallowed and pulled his tunic back up to expose himself to his master’s eyes again, should his master turn his head to look. He was used to being naked around his master, but this partial nudity was a very different thing. He felt his stomach twist with the humiliation of it even though his master was concentrating on driving as the car pulled smoothly out of the car park. A few minutes later they were on the stone-paved Via Flaminia that led to who knew where, eventually.

Ven didn't know what to do with his hands. He couldn't put them in his lap because they were too close to his prick and the torture of not even being able to touch himself was the worst. He didn't doubt that Master wouldn't hesitate to slap his hands away from his crotch, even while driving, if he gave into the temptation, and eventually solved the issue by sitting on his hands and trying to concentrate on the countryside they were driving though.

It seemed like forever and only a few minutes when they arrived at the village. The guard at the entrance barely glanced at Ven’s exposed crotch as he checked Master’s ID before letting them into the village itself. His erection had flagged somewhat now, despite the harness he wore, and he got out of the car to open the driver’s side door for Master, uncertain whether he would be allowed to pass this visit normally or if Master would do something to put him back on edge. He rather hoped that he wouldn’t; he didn’t know how he would explain it to Briseis if his tunic was tented out and growing damp.

Master said nothing, merely tugging Ven’s tunic straight and looking him up and down critically before locking the car door (and turning to try the handle to make sure that it actually was locked). Ven fell into his habitual place three paces behind him as he went into the residential home.

The scent of oleander pervaded the air, even before they came out into the garden, where there were other spring flowers in evidence, too - crocuses and cyclamen and several other things that looked familiar but that Ven could not put a name to, not being a gardener. 

It was a pretty courtyard garden, all things considered, although he couldn’t really look at it because he was focussing on his master (and the ache in his balls where he’d been on edge for pretty much the whole day).

"Good afternoon, Elysia."

"Drusus! How nice to see you!"

The old lady was sitting in a chair, with Briseis sitting cross-legged in another chair next to her, a book open on her lap. Ven thought it looked like it might be a history book, but it was hard to tell upside down, especially when Briseis looked up and scrambled to her feet.

"Good girl! Good afternoon, Briseis."

"Good afternoon, M… Master!"

Master patted her on the head and took the seat she had just vacated. 

"I have made an appointment to have you take some aptitude tests next week, Briseis," he told her, ignoring the petulant look on her face as she registered he was sitting in her seat. 

She stood on one leg, rubbing the top of her foot against her other calf. "What's that mean, M… Master? What sort of tests?"

"They're not like reading or writing tests, Briseis," he told her. "They’re to see what sort of things you’re good at and what you like to do, and how you best learn things - nothing to be scared of."

Ven was vaguely aware that this was the preliminary step in seeing whether a child was suited for the client programme - and what sort of final role or training within that programme would best fit them. There was no reason at all to spend several thousand sestertii (probably!) on training someone for something that they didn’t enjoy and weren’t good at, after all - although if they really weren’t good at something, that would surely be apparent even partway through the training.

"You and Ven may run along, only don’t go far," Master said, glancing toward the fountain in a clear command.

"Yes, Master," Ven said, and extended a hand to the pixie-child, who tugged her plait over her shoulder nervously before accepting his hand.

The fountain was in the sun, but there was a bench nearby in the dappled shade of a tree and Ven sat down. Briseis scrambled into his lap, curling up against him. 

"Missed you," she said into his shoulder, and he pulled her closer.

"You’ve seen me on your tabula," he told her. "Your lessons are coming on well."

"Tisn't the same," she muttered.

"No, I’m sure it’s not. What were you reading?"

She brought the book up to show him. It was a history book, one of the simple things suitable for children (and slaves), the sort of thing he’d read himself at her age, though this book still had its cover on.

"What did Master mean, ap… appletude tests?" she asked, as Ven gave the book back to her.

"Aptitude tests. He wants to see what sort of training would suit you when you’re a bit older, that’s all, it’s nothing scary."

"Have you done them?"

"No. My old master wasn’t interested, and I’m too old now. They test people your age, because then they can make sure they get all the right lessons and training and everything. Though I’m having some training, so I can be the very best secretary ever."

"What's a… a seckerty?"

Ven smiled. "A secretary. I write his letters and make appointments for when people want to see him, all sorts of things you’d find boring. Or at least, you'd find them boring right now."

"Mmm." She nodded, under Ven's chin. "Will it mean leavin' here, though?"

Ven considered, and shrugged. "I don't know. I really don't know much about it at all."

Surely if she was accepted into the programme (though if Master was going to pay for it, that must be a given, really!), they would explain things to her properly. Though eight must be too young to even start proper training, surely. Perhaps they would just slant her lessons more towards what she was going to train as, though.

"I don't think there’s anything to worry about, I really don't. There’s training for all different things, they just want to find out what you'd be best at, and would like the most."

"Oh."

"Will you come out to do it?"

"I don’t know. What happens - I think - is that someone else comes out, who's used to doing it, and they’ll probably talk with you and ask you questions and things. I’m sure Master will talk with you about it, though - he knows how it works a lot better than I do."

"But you’re clever..."

Ven laughed quietly. "Thank you. But even being clever doesn’t mean I know all about things like this, not really." He fished his tabula out of his satchel and pulled up the educational program they used. "Where did we get to last time?"

They went through the lesson - it was geography, something Ven only knew a very little about - with Ven glancing towards his master and Elysia every now and then. Someone had brought them some refreshments and Ven nearly startled when Master crooked his finger at them before lifting the plate and looking meaningfully at Bryseis, who was engrossed in the animated display of an erupting volcano that was displayed on Ven’s tabula.

He nudged her gently, pausing the animation once he got her attention. "Master wants you, this can wait a moment."

She scrambled off his lap, allowing him to shift, trying to get a little more comfortable with the plug keeping him open, though he wasn’t on edge the way he had been earlier with the vibrator.

She returned a few minutes later with a plate of pastries. 

"Master says you c’n have two," she announced, as she set the plate carefully on the bench before scrambling back into Ven’s lap and reaching for a pastry as Ven started the animation again from the beginning. He took a pastry himself; it was very good, flaky pastry with a fruit filling, the sort of thing he didn’t get very often.

"There are different sorts of volcano," Ven says, turning her attention back to the lesson.

"Have you ever seen one?" Bryseis asked, around a mouthful.

"No. I did live in a town in south Italia when I was your age, but it was a long way from any volcano. About as far away as we are from Rome, here. I’ll try to remember to bring a map, next time, and I can show you - I can’t show you any maps on my tabula."

"All right."

The lesson lasted as long as it took for them to devour the pastries, and then Master called them back over and took his leave. Ven slipped his tabula back into his secretary’s satchel and followed him back to the car.

Master had parked by a blank brick wall, with a hedge behind the car. There was nobody else around and yet Ven still caught his lip between his teeth at the order to pass Master the shopping bag then put his hands on the car and bend over. He shivered a little as his tunic was pulled up and the plug pressed into him before Master drew it firmly out, sealing it in the ziploc bag it had originally been in. Ven felt his hole fluttering, trying to close even as there were more sounds from behind. The cold wet feeling of lube being spread over and into his hole made him gasp and then he shifted as the vibrator was pressed in, pushing back inside until it was fully seated.

"All right, get in," Master told him, patting his bottom before pulling his tunic down. He passed Ven the shopping bag, allowing him to put it back down by his feet as he closed the door and walked around the car to slide into the driver’s seat. He reached over with one hand to pull Ven’s tunic back up, exposing his cock to the fresh air. It was soft, but Ven was pretty sure that it wasn’t going to stay that way.

He was right, but instead of the unpredictable vibrations of that morning, it seemed to be set to give two strong vibrations every few seconds, a regular burst that would wake his prick back up and keep it ready, but not enough to let him come. 

His prick was already stirring as they drove through the gates out of the village and turned for the road home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> invīsunt - (chapter title) they visit/pay a visit to  
> cucullus - hood. In this case the hood (or bonnet) of a car. I chose to use the Latin word because I'm British and while I use British spellings (and grammar!) I think this is one of those places where American and British English is definitely divided. (Also, Latin doesn't have a word for ‘bonnet' for some bizarre reason. :D ) Yes, the usage here may sound awkward.
> 
> Other notes:  
> I  
> The client programme is aimed mostly at discovering intelligent slaves and training them in certain fields, generally STEM-related, to give a pool of scientists, doctors, engineers etc whose masters (and former masters) will receive prestige. Some roles require that the trained slave be freed before they can practise (medicine, engineering and law foremost among these).
> 
> The tests administered to find these slaves are also designed to indicate what training a slave may show an aptitude for which does not fall under the remit of the client programme - most creative fields would not, for instance, but a master may choose to allow a slave access to training and education in, say, design, and directly profit from them in that way.
> 
> II  
> Ven was originally from Paestum in Campania. It’s on the west coast of Italia, about an hour’s drive to the south of Pompeii.


	4. concubīnus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is sex in this chapter, including an enema, bondage and nipple play, and mention of cock cages. This chapter is rated very NSFW.
> 
> Having said that, I hope that all of you, and yours, are well, considering the current state of the world. My thoughts are with all those affected by the coronavirus. *hugs* to you all.

It was a nice drive between Osteria Nova and home and Ven usually enjoyed it because it meant that he could see some of the countryside and it was a change of scenery from the crowded streets of Rome. He had missed the country since his removal to Rome five years or so before, and the weekly trip satisfied his need for a horizon and open sky, and allowed him to watch the changing seasons.

Right now, his mind was on other things, thanks to the vibrator that his master had inserted into him, that was vibrating at regular intervals and making him squirm. His master had his eyes fixed on the road, seeming to be oblivious to Ven’s discomfort and growing arousal, though that should be obvious - Master had pulled Ven’s tunic up as they got into the car, leaving his prick exposed. Ven was used to nudity, but this felt different and more uncomfortable, although nobody could see him apart from Master - as far as anybody else could tell, Ven was dressed as decently as any other slave in Italia.

The journey from the secure parking garage back to the house was a much shorter trip, though Master pulled Ven’s tunic down for it, as a concession to the fact they were far more visible as passengers on a cycleshaw. The calm wasn’t to last long, though.

He helped Master out of his pallium, carefully folding it as Master settled himself on the sofa and reached for the TV remote before indicating the bag that Ven had put down.

"The towel is to go into the laundry to be washed, and you may wash the plug and return it to the training room," Master said. "You may go to the latrine if you need to, then return here with your cuffs, a double snap, the medium ball-gag and a blindfold. Moss will find my soleae. The other things in the bag are to go into my room."

Ven licked his lips, not happy with where this seemed to be going, but he didn’t have much of a choice. "Yes, Master."

He slipped the strap of his secretarial satchel off, and put the satchel down by his cushion before taking the pallium and shopping bag and heading for his master’s room.

He returned to the atrium to find that the end table had been moved and his floor cushion put into its place.

"All right, pet, tunic off," Master said, barely glancing at him. He swallowed, unfastening his belt and pulling the tunic off.

Master clicked his fingers. "Moss, this tunic is to go into the laundry, and I will have a glass of wine - and bring a tray."

"Yes, Master."

Moss came over to take Ven’s tunic, not meeting his eyes, before turning to go to the service quarters as Master indicated that Ven should settle down on his cushion.

Moss was as efficient as any of Master’s other slaves - a master like Drusus Varius Metellus would not permit any slave to be inefficient, of course! - and returned mere moments later, bearing a brass tray with a wine-glass and a bottle of wine.

"Ven will be my side-table this evening, you may give that to him to hold, and pour a glass of wine."

"Yes, Master," Moss replied quietly, pausing as Ven adjusted his position so that he could hold the tray at an accessible height for Master. This was not going to be a relaxing evening - he still had that vibrator teasing inside him every few seconds.

He settled into position, catching his lip between his teeth as a small black innocuous-looking remote joined the bottle and glass on the tray. He couldn’t help glancing sideways at Master even as his owner scrolled through the television channels, eventually settling on something that looked more interesting than the usual sort of thing Master liked watching. Master’s hand dropped to ruffle Ven’s hair before taking the glass.

It was cosy and relaxing, although the strong bursts of the vibrator were enough to keep Ven from relaxing too much - that, and having to concentrate on keeping the tray still and level so that the wine-bottle did not fall over. He was conscious of his nakedness, too, and that his cock was hard again, as it had been this morning.

It was maybe half-an-hour later when Master shifted, setting the empty wine-glass on the tray that Ven was holding and taking the remote back.

"I will have dinner out here today. Ven, you may put that tray down."

Ven did so, setting it on the floor in front of him and trying not to groan as he eased stiff muscles. Master extended one foot and then the other for Ven to remove his indoor sandals - no citizen reclined with even indoor footwear on, after all. Once Master’s feet were bare, he shifted position, reclining on the sofa. Ven was directed to place the end-table in front of him ready for his meal, and then to move the floor-cushion so that he could kneel in front of Master. Once that was done, Master buckled Ven’s cuffs around his wrists and used the double snap clip to cuff his hands behind his back, and then slipped the blindfold on, plunging Ven into darkness. Master’s hands guided him into a position leaning against the arm of the sofa, which was all the orientation he had now - that, and the sounds of the TV from his left. Moss would be behind him and Junio somewhere in front of him, across the other side of the atrium, and Master reclining on the sofa to his right.

Sounds nearby to his left were familiar - someone setting down a tray, adjusting it so that Master could reach the food on it, a fork being set down for those things that were too hot to be picked up otherwise. It smelt good - fresh bread, smoked meats, cheeses, some sort of spicy sauce or something. Master hadn’t gagged him and Ven’s position hopefully meant that…

"Open up, pet," Master said, putting something to Ven’s mouth. He opened his mouth to accept a piece of smoked sausage, managing to press a kiss to his master’s fingers.

A piece of bread dipped in garum.

A piece of hard-boiled egg.

Some cheese.

Some more sausage.

Some sort of cold meat pie.

A forkful of some sort of spicy pasta, followed by some cold milk from a glass held to his mouth.

Occasionally his master's hand stroked his hair or caressed his chest or shoulder, the touch startling and electrifying because he couldn't see it coming.

He was growing full when eventually a hand patted his stomach. "That's enough for you now. I want you to hold this in your teeth until I say you may eat it, pet, do you understand?"

Ven nodded. "Y… yes, Master."

"Good boy."

What was presented then was a fresh strawberry, nice and ripe. Ven screwed his eyes up behind the blindfold, and twisted his hands together behind his back, listening to the sounds of the news on the TV and his master finishing his own meal.

He tried to hold still but could not stop trembling with arousal. The taste and scent of the strawberry were making his mouth water, and he had to swallow every now and then or risk dribbling - while trying not to bite into the fruit.

He groaned as the TV went off and the vibrations in his bum grew in intensity. A hand ran through his hair.

"Good boy. You may eat that now, pet."

Ven tipped his head back a little, allowing gravity to help the strawberry fall into his mouth, rather than letting it fall to the floor, and chewed, pressing into his master’s hand. "Thank you, Master."

Soothing scratches to his scalp, but his master’s next words were not addressed to him.

"You may clear this away, and bring a pot of coffee to my room. Have your own meal and carry on with your evening chores."

Moss and Junio replied together, "Yes Master."

Master’s hands were urging Ven to his feet now, and he stood there for a moment, disoriented, before being guided towards his master’s room, and then to the en-suite bathroom, where the blindfold was pulled off and pressed into his hand and his cuffs unbuckled.

"You will carry out your usual evening ablutions, but you will replace this once you re-enter my room."

"Yes, Master."

Soft light from the bedroom filtered through the glass door and meant that Ven did not have to turn on the bathroom light and almost blind himself with the glare.

He cleaned his teeth, washed and then turned to the part of his daily routine that he hated the most. It was something that he did every morning but only did in the evening when told. He flipped the shower to run through the enema nozzle, allowing the warm water to run through and warm it up before turning the water off and unfastening the other end of the hose. He took an enema pack from the shelf - Phallusy made several different enema formulae for different purposes, and Master kept a stock of those designed to clean the body. 

He removed the vibrator and set it aside, still vibrating, replacing it with the enema nozzle, before opening the pack and screwing the other end of the enema hose into place, and then hung the bag up, getting on his hands and knees to allow it to drain into his body. He hated the procedure, it was uncomfortable, humiliating and only added to his arousal. Sometimes Master watched him do it - sometimes Master administered it himself.

He was starting to squirm now, but the bag was only half-empty. He couldn’t wait for the day when he’d never have to do this again, and tried to distract himself from the sensation by imagining what it would be like then, where he would be living and what he’d be doing. But the sensations were too present, too strong - the hard stainless steel nozzle keeping him open and the feeling of liquid running into his body.. He squirmed more, shifting, and rubbed his stomach to move the liquid, to allow more in - the things were designed to be emptied completely, one whole bag per cleansing session.

It was uncomfortable now, especially after a meal, but eventually the bag was empty and there was nothing more forcing its way into him. It was a moment before he could move enough to pull the nozzle free, a few drips running from it to the shower tray, and a small trickle escaping his body to run down his thighs before he could persuade aching muscles to close, to hold it in. He had been held open all day, and didn’t think that he could make it to the toilet without leaking onto the floor if he stood up, so he braced himself before crawling to the toilet and getting onto the seat to allow the fluid to drain out, leaving him empty and clean for whatever his master wanted to do.

He threw the empty enema bag into the bin, hooked the enema nozzle back to the water supply and hosed down the shower tray before turning to lube the vibrator, which was still active, and put it back in. 

He gave the bathroom one final look before picking up the blindfold and going to the door, putting the blindfold back on.

"Master?"

"All done?"

"Yes, Master."

He felt Master put one hand on his arm, and the other on his bum, and was guided over to where he thought the bed was.

"Up you get - good boy."

He didn’t know what Master wanted of him, so allowed himself to be arranged, propped up on a pile of pillows or cushions. He felt his cuffs being buckled onto his wrists again before his hands were drawn over his head, his elbows bent over the horizontal bar at the head of the bed and then the cuffs were clipped together around one of the sturdy metal upright bars, keeping his arms bent above his head so that he could not interfere with whatever Master wanted to do.

A finger ran down his chest, making him shiver with anticipation, arousal and nervousness. The bed shifted under him and he felt warmth over him and to each side - Master kneeling over him? There was a familiar musky male scent and then something being pressed to his mouth. 

"Good boy, open up, now," Master said and Ven did so, to find that his master’s prick was pushed in, carefully but insistently. He was not in a good position to give a proper blow-job, but that was not what his master wanted. "Just take it. Remember your mouth is made to take cock, whenever I choose to give it."

Ven was not in a position to take more than a couple of inches or so of his master’s manhood, but it didn’t seem to bother him. "Keep your mouth open, like that," Master said, thrusting in, making him gag a little. "Just like that."

He withdrew and Ven was left with his mouth open. He was not kept waiting for long because Master gathered some of his own pre-cum (he had been leaking since before dinner) and spread it over Ven’s tongue and around his mouth, making him taste his own arousal.

"There," Master said, sounding satisfied. Something else was pressed into Ven’s mouth next and then straps were being fasted around his head - it was a ball-gag, one of those light plastic ones with holes that meant he could still breathe through his mouth if he needed to, but couldn’t speak or swallow, and couldn’t get rid of the taste of his own need.

"If you need to dribble, turn your head," Master directed.

Ven tossed his head and sucked a breath in as his master’s hands grasped his sides, thumbs grazing his nipples. 

"So delicious, so aroused, so wanton," Master said.

He felt the bed dip slightly and then a cuff was fastened around each thigh and ankle, then his legs were bent and the ankle cuffs were clipped to his thighs, leaving him open, exposed and defenceless, his prick weeping against his thigh and the vibrator pushed in as far as it would go and on its highest setting.

There was another shift in position above him and then he felt Master’s mouth on his skin, biting, sucking, enough to leave a mark.

"I am going to leave you marked tonight, pretty boy," Master said, his voice husky and tinged with danger. Ven whimpered, the sound turning to a whine as his nipples were pinched. He squirmed and writhed under his master, but couldn’t dislodge the tight grasp of his master's fingers and thumbs that held his nipples pinched tight. "I think we shall give these some attention, they are such sensitive pretty little things," he continued.

There was some fiddling with first the right nipple and then the left one and Ven realised that the rings he had been wearing all day had been removed. He was given a moment’s respite before those fingers were back, pinching, tugging, twisting, tormenting. He squirmed and pulled at the restraints, tossing his head from side to side in an attempt to lessen the intensity and sensation.

"I think you’ll like this," Master said, in the tone of voice that Ven recognised meant that he wouldn’t like it at all but Master would. There was a pause, then something that felt like a hard piece of plastic was placed on his chest and each nipple was subject to the sort of intense pinch that signified a nipple clamp had been applied to it. He was given a moment to adjust and then Master did something that made Ven’s nipples feel as if they were being pulled as the clamps tightened. He keened around the ball in his mouth.

"So stretched… so pretty. Does it hurt?"

He couldn’t talk, of course he couldn’t, but he could nod, and did so, hoping that his master would read the pleading he couldn’t vocalise, for the clamps to be taken off.

"So pretty when you suffer for me, pet."

The clamps _weren’t_ taken off, and instead the tugging and pinching ratcheted up, leaving Ven breathing faster as the already intense sensation intensified further. Master’s mouth descended on his body again, sucking hard at the soft flesh of his stomach, so hard that Ven knew it would leave a dark mark there that would be visible for a while. Teeth lower down, then another mark left on his inner thigh.

"You’re leaking all over yourself, dirty boy," Master said, and wiped Ven’s thigh, then scraped against the hollow ball in Ven’s mouth, allowing the evidence of his arousal to drip through the holes in the ball-gag and into Ven’s mouth so he could taste himself.

The tugging of his nipples and the intense pinching induced by the clamps was ratcheted up yet again, stealing Ven’s air as he pulled against all the restraints rendering him helpless.

"You really are a dirty boy," Master said, wiping another fingerful of precum against the ball-gag. He relented and the tugging at Ven’s nipples eased a little, although the painful tight pinching did not - he must have used clover clamps, which just got tighter and more painful the more they were pulled and did not ease up until they were released. "I like the look of those nipples all stretched out, though."

And the stretching pulling continuous tug was back. Ven arched off the pillows as much as he could but it didn’t help and he slumped back, sobbing and gasping through the plastic ball in his mouth.

Somewhere in that sea of intense sensation, the vibrator in his arse had gone dead. Master adjusted his position and slipped the vibrator out, lining the tip of his cock up with Ven’s tormented teased hole and simply allowed gravity and Ven’s position to do the work of sheathing him in his slave’s unresisting body.

He cupped his hands under Ven’s pecs, rubbing at the taut skin with his thumbs. "So pretty when you suffer for me, pet," he said, rocking gently to allow Ven to realise he was being fucked.

He ran a finger the length of Ven’s prick, eliciting a full-body shudder and a gasp.

"Your poor cock, so tied up. Do you think you can come if it doesn’t receive any stimulation?"

Ven whimpered, moaned and tossed his head.

"So interesting, how the body adapts. If all sexual stimulation is concentrated in the arse, then it is possible to come without the prick receiving any attention at all. Shall we try?" He unfastened the leather harness that acted as a cock ring, and fondled the balls. Ven whimpered through the gag. "I wonder if we should find you a cage for your pretty cock and not let it get hard at all. Let’s face it, your body is there to be filled by my prick, yours isn’t getting any use. On the other hand, it’s fun to watch you get hard just from having something in the arse."

Ven shook his head. He very much did not want to endure a cock-cage - the harness was bad enough, after all.

"No? Well, maybe just for a little while rather than permanently." He caressed Ven’s cheek, rubbing the skin lightly with his thumb, and smiled as Ven turned his head, pressing into the hand that was gentle on his face - he might even have kissed it, if he had the use of his mouth.

"Can you take just a little more of this?" Master asked, and Ven felt the clamps tighten more and the nubs pulled further and keened, tears coming to his eyes. His struggles meant that he was fucking himself on his master’s prick, something his master encouraged by rocking, thrusting his prick into Ven’s unresisting hole.

"So delicious in your torment, pet. Keep moving, I want you to make me come inside you."

Ven moaned, sucking air through the holes in the ball-gag - feeling more of his essence drip into his mouth through it, too, as his master wiped more of his precum against the outside of it.

He could not really move. He could rock a little and shift his hips against his master’s but that and the shudders from everything he was subjected to were all that he could offer. He did his best, though and eventually Master began thrusting back into him, hard before stiffening over him and sending the warm fluid evidence of his completion into Ven’s body. Ven himself was still on edge and despite Master’s earlier words he felt a hand wrap around his prick, pumping him - just a handful of strokes was all it took for Ven to shudder, stiffen and spend himself, the warm wetness coating his thigh and belly. He went limp, breathing hard through the ball gag, and blinked in the soft golden light of the bedside lamps as Master pulled his blindfold off.

The first thing he did was look to see what the device was that was hurting his nipples. There was a shaped piece of plastic flat against his chest, and a threaded rod perpendicular to it, which had a knob at its other end. Threaded onto the rod was another rod and at each end of that was a clover clamp. Obviously, when the knob was turned, the threaded rod made the other bar travel up or down, pulling at the nipples the clamps were attached to, or relieving the pull. It was a wickedly simple device, incredibly effective. Master twisted the knob, releasing the pull and then removed the clamps, allowing blood to return to the abused nubs.

Ven’s shriek was muffled by the ball gag he was still wearing and he slumped back, panting. Master reached around his head to unfasten the straps of the ball-gag, tugging it free of Ven’s mouth. Ven moved his jaw, trying to get some of the stiffness out, before swallowing. He looked up and then looked away at the predatory expression in Master’s eyes.

Master merely reached to Ven’s belly, scooping up a fingerful of his essence and presenting it to Ven’s mouth. "Clean yourself up now, pet," he said, smiling as Ven reluctantly licked the semen from his master’s finger. He was given another helping and another until it was gone. 

Master reached to the bedside table. The butt-plug he lubed was a jelly one that would be more comfortable than the hard plastic things Ven normally wore after sex, yet would still serve to keep his master’s essence plugged inside until he could clean himself out in the morning. 

Master slipped his now quiescent prick free and pushed the plug in, before reaching for a damp cloth to wipe the last traces of Ven’s spend from his skin. Once that was done, he released Ven from his bonds before laying back, his legs spread.

"Clean me off," he said, and Ven, still shaky, got to his knees to comply. As he licked at his master’s prick a hand tousled his hair. It felt good, especially after everything.

"You can sort everything else out in the morning," Master said. "Tidy the pillows up and lie down."

Ven adjusted the pillows, and did as he was told. He was not really surprised to be gathered into his master’s arms as the lights went out, leaving them in darkness, with the night-time sounds of the house around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> soleae (s. solea) light sandals worn indoors, when a citizen was only dressed in his tunic


End file.
